


Something in my Heart

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Trans Female Character, trans!byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: There is perhaps no greater pleasure in all of Fódlan than this bath. No expectations of social interaction, no talking, nothing but the cool breeze and the warm water. Byleth exhales.She isn’t sure when she can hear footsteps approaching behind her, but the sound of bare feet against stone rouses her from her half-sleep, drawing a questioning noise from her lips.She blinks blearily at her visitor.“Hello again,” Mercedes says, a towel covering most of her body.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

Byleth likes to sit on the bridge and watch the pegasi, watch the sway of the trees down the mountainside, the clouds drifting high above. The sun hangs low and gold above the edge of the jagged mountains. It’s quiet here, now that less people visit the chapel. It’s not that there aren’t services, there aren’t ceremonies and celebrations for the goddess, but Byleth suspects the chapel holds difficult memories for everyone.

The statues of the saints had been taken down, for one. The gold metal melted down and sent elsewhere. The glory and wealth of the Church of Seiros, stripped out and turned to scrap. The pile of rubble at the front of the chapel had been the first thing fixed, and the stained-glass windows were fixed too.

The Goddess Tower was boarded up and left to the rats and the wyverns. Weeds choke the brickwork, now. Lady Edelgard hadn’t wanted to touch it, nor had anyone else. Students whisper about ghosts in the ruins. Shadows, shifting darkness. 

Byleth leans on the balustrade and exhales, a cloud of white breath into the air. She can see two wyverns in the distance, darting between trees, their riders practicing maneuvers, slipping into and out of the shadows of sunset trees.

Two years is not long enough for a land to heal, and the scars of the war will remain, possibly forever. Buildings that will never again look how they did when Byleth would while the days away, a book in hand, listening to students laugh and train.

Students are back at Garreg Mach, for the first time since the war. 

Lady Edelgard had demanded the tuition fees be lifted and the nobility requirement waived. True to her vision, the only requirements are now an entrance exam. Students from all over Fódlan applied in droves. Everyone was excited to see the new restructured monastery. Byleth had spent the greater portion of the Lone Moon grading exams. Saint Indech day has passed while she sat in her office. It was a strange day. She had watched construction workers finish the training yard boundaries.

Two students pass behind her, two girls holding thick textbooks and heading towards the chapel. They laugh and giggle, and Byleth’s heart feels light. 

It would take a long time for Fódlan to heal from the war, but already the scars were fading. 

“You look sad,” comes a high, kind voice from behind Byleth.

Byleth turns, and a smile graces her stoic face. “Oh. Hello, Mercedes.”

Mercedes smiles brightly and bows. “It’s nice to see you out, professor.” The title is spoken with a sort of teasing kindness. It’s a new title, taken as of the beginning of the semester. It has been seven years since Byleth was last called that. “The goddess has blessed us with another beautiful day.”

“She has,” Byleth nods. “Were you on your way to the chapel?”

“On my way back, actually.” Mercedes tilts her head to the side. “My office hours are over at five.”

“Is it that late already?” Byleth asks.

“Did you not notice?”

Mercedes has a book in her hands, and Byleth can see the glint of a ring on her finger, a sparkle of gold light that reflects the setting sun. 

She had given her the ring after the war, a symbol and a promise. The intervening years had allowed no time to wed, certainly not the sort of ceremony that Mercedes had in mind. It felt hypocritical, to Byleth, to hold a ceremony and ask for the goddess’ blessing, after all that had transpired. And so they wait, and the promise remains. 

Mercedes’ smile is bright, and her eyes crinkle at the corners, her kind cheeks making her whole face light up when her lips curve upwards. It’s a beautiful smile, Byleth things. She wishes she could match it. 

“I was thinking about getting dinner,” Mercedes says. “Would you like to join me?” 

Byleth nods and Mercedes smiles again, reaching out her hand to take Byleth’s. Her hand is cool and comforting, and Byleth can feel the cold weight of her engagement ring against her own skin. Byleth had stopped wearing gauntlets after the war ended. She didn’t like to think that she was preparing students for war anymore. 

Mercedes hums a hymn as they walk across the bridge and towards the monastery grounds. 

Byleth is quiet, as she always is. Mercedes talks about her day, with as much detail as allowed. She took on a role of school counselor, now that the school has re-opened. With less money funneled into the knights, there’s much more room in the budget for staff. Full-time chefs for the kitchens, counselors, more professors, more groundskeepers. There’s even a lost-and-found office, and Byleth thanks the goddess every day that finding the owner of stray objects is no longer her duty. 

Mercedes waves to Annette as they pass. She had been a soldier with the Kingdom, back when the Kingdom existed. But now she teaches magic to those with the proper proclivity. She smiles brightly and gives a curt nod to Byleth and Mercedes as they cross paths. 

Byleth is thankful that the school’s requirements had shifted. She had felt uncomfortable training fifteen-year-olds for combat, and much to her relief, combat courses now have a solid age requirement. Younger students may attend the academy if they pass the entrance exam, but no one under the age of 18 may receive combat instruction.

Lady Edelgard had been very strict about that. She had demanded that no children be forced to fight.

Shamir is in the training grounds, still practicing archery as they pass. Byleth and Shamir make eye contact. There is nothing, no wave, no nod, no smiles, but there is an understanding. Byleth quite likes Shamir. Someone else who values stoicism is comfortable to spend time with.

The dining hall is crowded this time of night, after office hours have ended for most of the professors and classes have let out for the day. Shamir has a class she teaches at eight, specifically to teach in the dark, and Byleth has been meaning to audit it for some time, but she finds it difficult to make room in her busy schedule. 

The hall is loud, bright, and warm, brimming with a vibrancy and color that Byleth hasn’t seen for years. Students laughing, talking, studying, eating, circles of friends sitting around tables, torches lit along the walls, flickering and warm. The whole hall smell delicious - fresh-baked bread and seared meat and roast vegetables and spices, none of which Byleth can quite name. She’s never been a great cook, even despite her fiance’s skill. 

“Oh, good!” Mercedes says brightly as she looks at the menu board posted by the kitchen. “Roast pheasant, my favorite!” 

Byleth nods and follows her into the line for dinner.

-

The biggest change between the Garreg Mach Byleth had first worked at and now is the division of monastery territory. There are more grounds for the students, now, and more facilities. The training courtyard has been expanded, the offices in the main building have been expanded into extra classrooms, and - Byleth’s favorite - the sauna has been renovated. Aside from the house baths, there is a special section, secluded and tucked into the back of the dormitories, an open-air bath that looks out on a vacant valley filled with felled trees. 

It’s a faculty-only bathhouse, and Byleth loves nothing more than sinking into the hot spring water at the end of a long day, letting the water wash her stress away, gazing out at the stars and the black mountains like jagged teeth piercing the veil of sunset. The sun sinks lower, edging the mountains in fire, and Byleth slips into the water, sighing. She lets her hair down, the locks of dark blue draping over her bare shoulders, notched with scars. 

She doesn’t hate her body, more than she hates anything, but she feels more comfortable in the baths, where fog and steam and swirls in the water help disguise the tangle of pale scars notched across her body. She stretches her legs out in the water, sending ripples of waves against the stone edges of the bath and bouncing back again. She drapes a wet towel over her forehead and closes her eyes. 

There is perhaps no greater pleasure in all of Fódlan than this. No expectations of social interaction, no talking, nothing but the cool breeze and the warm water. Byleth exhales.

She isn’t sure when she can hear footsteps approaching behind her, but the sound of bare feet against stone rouses her from her half-sleep, drawing a questioning noise from her lips. She blinks blearily at her visitor.

“Hello again,  _ professor _ !” Mercedes says, a towel covering most of her body. She’s smiling still, like she always is. She stops at the edge of the bath. “I hope I’m not interrupting your alone time.” She bows her head slightly. “I know you appreciate solitude.”

“Not at all,” Byleth says, scooting away from the edge of the bath and beckoning her forward. “I was just thinking company might be nice.”

Mercedes looks at her curiously for a moment. It’s something they’ve had to puzzle out, since their engagement. When Byleth is being polite and when she’s being genuine, what her emotions are behind that stoic mask and those big, bright eyes. 

Byleth remembers and offers a curt smile, hoping the forced grin comes off as genuine. She truly is happy to see Mercedes - she always is. She looks away, choosing to gaze out at the mountains as Mercedes peels her towel away from her skin, folding it and leaving it at the edge of the baths. Byleth makes room in the broad pool for Mercedes to slip into the water, her soft pale skin sinking into the steaming blue-green. She sighs deeply as her shoulders slip under the surface. 

“I love the baths,” she says, closing her eyes. “It’s so relaxing, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” 

Mercedes lifts a hand to her mouth and giggles. 

“What?”

“You’re cute,” Mercedes smiles. 

Byleth blushes and turns away. She’s surprised when she can feel a soft hand on her knee. Mercedes shifts forward in the pool, sitting at Byleth’s side, stroking her leg. 

“I’m glad we get to have some alone time,” Mercedes says, taking Byleth’s hand in her own. She rubs her thumb over Byleth’s knuckle.

“Me too.”

Mercedes laughs again and dips her face low, to kiss Byleth’s shoulder. 

Byleth’s blush deepens, and she assures herself that it’s not the kiss, it’s the heat of the bath. 

“I’ve missed you,” Mercedes murmurs quietly.

“Me too.”

“Is that all you can say?” Mercedes teases, draping an arm around Byleth’s shoulders and pulling herself closer. 

Byleth blinks at her.

“Just teasing, love,” Mercedes kisses her cheek. She picks up a cloth and begins rubbing it across Byleth’s bare shoulders.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Mercedes shifts to rotate Byleth, dips her head to kiss the notch of Byleth’s spine before rubbing soapy water over her back. “You’ve worked hard.”

Byleth sits quietly, the only sound the lapping of water, the gentle slosh and trickle of Mercedes rubbing her back with a washcloth, and soft humming. It’s a different hymn, one Byleth recognizes from the weekly services she attends with Mercedes. 

Mercedes kisses her again, pressing her lips to her shoulders, wrapping her arms around Byleth’s slender stomach and tugging her back into an embrace. 

Byleth can feel her breasts press against her back, warm and soapy, the gentle press of stiff nipples against her bare skin, and her breath hitches. 

Mercedes giggles again and shifts her arms up, from an embrace around Byleth’s midsection to gently cupping her breasts. 

Byleth’s breathing deepens. 

“Is this okay?” Mercedes asks.

Byleth nods, and Mercedes’ fingers get to work, kneading her flesh gently, rubbing her soapy breasts, drawing a soft sigh from Byleth’s mouth. Byleth leans back into her embrace, unconsciously bucking her hips, grinding back into Mercedes’ soft body. She tilts her head back and Mercedes leans forward to catch her lips in a kiss.

Mercedes tastes lovely. She always does. Her mouth is soft and warm, and Byleth can feel the shape of a smile even through their kiss. She leans back into Mercedes, kissing harder. One of Mercedes’ hands drops from Byleth;s breast, tracing down the contours of her abdomen, dropping lower. Her fingertips brush against the forest of hair beneath Byleth’s hips, under the water. Mercedes pulls back, tracing her lips along Byleth’s cheek, brushing a kiss against the shell of her ear. 

Byleth shudders, cold and warm all at once, her breath sharp and her heart pounding in her chest, so loud Mercedes  _ must _ hear it. 

Mercedes’ hand drifts lower, her fingertips dancing across Byleth’s skin.

Her groin aches, her stomach burns, electricity buzzing through her veins, the warm of her arousal unmissable beneath the water. She whimpers when Mercedes touches her.

“Heehee,” Mercedes giggles, her voice quiet in Byleth’s ear. “Excited?” 

Byleth nods.

Mercedes’ hand wraps around Byleth’s cock, gently, massaging her up and down under the water. Byleth stifles a groan by pressing a fist to her mouth.

“I want to hear you,” Mercedes says, reaching her hand up from Byleth’s breast and gently removing the fist from her. Byleth whimpers and gasps under Mercedes’ ministrations.

She reaches one hand down to snare her fingers around Mercedes’ hand, both of their fingers working in tandem, stroking Byleth as she moans quietly, the only other sound the wind and the lapping of water against the edge of the baths. Byleth’s moans hitch and grow in intensity, and she can hear Mercedes breathing hard in her ear, each exhale of air against her drawing goosebumps along Byleth’s exposed flesh. 

She spins around, suddenly, with a splash of water, and wraps her arms around Mercedes’ neck, pulling her into a tight embrace and a deep, passionate kiss. She slides against her, hot flesh against flesh, their breasts pressed together, Byleth breathing in as Mercedes breathes out. She reaches a hand up, snaring it in Mercedes’ short pale hair, tugging it, tugging Mercedes back to expose the tender flesh of her neck. Byleth nips at her, softly, at first, and then desperately, sinking her teeth into the soft, damp skin. 

Mercedes lets out a gasp. 

Byleth drops her hands down and cups Mercedes’ breasts, returning the kindness her lover had shown her, groping the flesh, pinching the hard pink of her nipples. Mercedes gasps again as Byleth drops her head lower and clamps her teeth around the soft flesh of one of her nipples. Mercedes giggles, the laugh turned to a groan as Byleth’s tongue presses against her, the hot wet muscle against a small pink nub.

Mercedes pushes Byleth back, gently, smiling, her eyes sparkling mischievously. 

“Here,” she says, leaning back and reaching to cup Byleth’s ass. She pulls her up to a standing position, out of the water, the bath up to her thighs. Mercedes kisses the head of her cock before tightly touching it with one hand, guiding Byleth to press it in the divot of soft flesh between her breasts. Byleth whimpers at the touch, closing her eyes and biting her lips to calm her outcry. 

Her cock trails precum across Mercedes’ chest as Byleth reaches down to stabilize herself on Mercedes’ shoulders. Mercedes looks up at her, her ever-shining smile under mirthful eyes. Her lips look pink and warm, and Byleth wants to kiss her again, but before she has the chance, Mercedes reaches her hands up to her breasts, pillowing the soft flesh around Byleth’s cock. 

Byleth groans, digging her fingernails into Mercedes’ shoulders, leaving a trail of little red crescents in her pale skin. 

Mercedes begins moving up and down slowly, her breasts massaging Byleth, Byleth groaning, the wetness of her arousal mixing with the water from the bath. Byleth can’t help but let her gaze linger on Mercedes, on her soft wet skin, on her round breasts, her pink nipples brushing Byleth’s skin, the hot red of Byleth’s cock slipping between her breasts. Arousal courses through her, hot and needy and desperate. She bucks her hips, matching Mercedes’ rhythm, breathing hard. Her knees wobble. 

“You c-can cum,” Mercedes says, breathless, between heaving gasps. Byleth is grateful for the permission. She never much cared for speaking at times like this.

Her moans catch, turning to a grunt, and she bucks her hips against Mercedes, spasms coursing through her groin. Her groin pulses hot and wet and sticky, streaks across Mercedes’ breasts, the dip of her collarbone, the underside of her chin. Byleth gasps, spent, the aftershocks of her orgasm still coursing through her body, and she leans forward, resting on Mercedes’ shoulders. Her cock is still sensitive and she flinches as Mercedes pulls back, exposing Byleth’s arousal to the cold night air, revealing the extent of the mess she had made of Mercedes’ chest.

“Sorry,” Byleth breathes quietly. 

Mercedes kisses the tip of her cock and sits up carefully onto the edge of the bath, trying not to drip. “Could you get me a towel, please?”


	2. Chapter 2

Byleth basks in the afterglow, her hair tied up into a damp blue ponytail as she reclines in bed, a soft white robe draped over the angles of her bare body. She leans back against the headboard, stretching her arms.

Lady Edelgard had insisted Byleth take Rhea’s bedroom, but she never stopped feeling uncomfortable there. It was much nicer here, in Mercedes’ apartments, where she could see all the little touches of home without feeling like she was trespassing in a sacred place, a place still brimming with ghosts and regrets. 

Mercedes slips through the door that leads to the living room and shuts the door behind her, smiling. She’s carrying a silver tray from somewhere, stacked with pastries and cups of tea. Byleth can smell lavender and sugar, and the bed creaks when Mercedes sits. She rests the tray of desserts on the bedside table. 

Byleth poaches a small cake with white icing and stuffs it in her mouth before she remembers her manners. She and Mercedes both bow their heads while Mercedes offers a short grace of thanks to the goddess. Byleth holds a cough until she finishes and then washes the cake down with a swig of hot tea. 

Mercedes laughs and picks up her own tea, blowing softly on it, steam coiling out of the porcelain cup. “I suppose some of those mercenary habits are hard to break, huh.”

Byleth tilts her head down, blushing, and Mercedes reaches to swipe a bit of icing from the corner of her lips. Mercedes grins and licks her finger.

It’s easier for Byleth to uncoil like this, when it’s just the two of them. Mercie understands her in ways that many others don’t - she’s patient where Byleth can be impulsive, she’s loquacious where Byleth is silent. In these quarters, there’s no expectations for Byleth to be anything more than herself. 

She is not a goddess-host, she is not a mercenary captain, she is not even a professor. She is Mercedes’ fiance, before she is anything else. She picks up another small pastry, a yellow cake with cream and sliced strawberries layered into it.

Mercedes chats about her day, about meeting with students, the sorts of problems that are pervasive in the counseling office. Many students have come to her, not for guidance about education or school life, but for guidance about the goddess. Many people no longer no what to do, with Rhea gone. With the Church of Seiros, as an entity, disbanded.

“It’s so sad,” Mercedes says, drawing idle circles on Byleth’s bare thigh with her finger. “I wish I knew what to tell them.”

Byleth sips her tea. 

“So much of the Church’s teachings relied on tradition, on history. With that gone, I have to help them understand that the Goddess’ love isn’t dependent on a church or an organization.” She sighs deeply. “I’ve thought about starting a club, maybe.”

“That could be a good idea,” Byleth says. 

“Just to have a space where students can freely voice their questions, a safe place to worship. I know many of students, particularly those that lived through the war, are uncomfortable worshipping in the chapel.” 

Byleth doesn’t know very much about the goddess, and what she does know doesn’t mesh with the sort of ideas Mercedes has about her. Still, Byleth thinks of her often. She sighs and rests a hand on Mercedes’.

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes smiles. “Here I am, talking about such heavy things.” 

“It’s okay,” Byleth says. 

“What about you?” Mercedes asks, between bites of pastry. “How has your day been?”

“Better, with you in it,” Byleth says, and Mercedes blushes.

“Oh, you,” she giggles. 

“The new students are doing well. Though Professor Hanneman keeps insisting that he check the new students for crests.” 

Mercedes laughs. “I suppose it’s too much to ask him to change, isn’t it?” 

“He and Linhardt insist that it’s still valuable research, even though Edelgard said they can only study crests in a non-official capacity.”

They chat and rest, Byleth understanding that the later she stays up, the more she will regret waking in the morning to finish grading exams, but it’s worth it for the quiet and the comfort of Mercedes’ company. Outside her window, the night wind blows, hissing across the glass. Some nights, Byleth is grateful to have someone to share a bed with, nights where memories become difficult to stomach. She misses Edelgard, though she is glad that the former Emperor is retired, and far from all of this. 

Mercedes kisses Byleth’s forehead and slips out of bed to take the empty tray and teacups to the small kitchen. She returns a few moments later. 

Byleth likes seeing her in quiet moments like this, without her religious garb, without her hat or her robes or a staff, just Mercedes, her short soft hair and the gentle curves of her body. She’d changed little since the war, but some of the hard angles had softened, muscle melting away into something rounder. She smiles when she sees Byleth watching her. 

“Sorry,” Byleth drops her gaze. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“You’re sweet,” Mercedes says, standing at the edge of the bed and dipping to kiss Byleth’s forehead. “Now, I believe you owe me for earlier.”

Byleth’s wide eyes widen further. “Ah-” she mumbles, blushing. 

“After all, you did make a bit of a mess,” Mercedes teases, pushing Byleth down, so she lays on her back on the bed. Mercedes crawls on top of her, straddling her. She leans down and kisses Byleth deeply, passionately. Her lips taste sweet, like lavender and sugar. Byleth kisses back, hard, slipping her tongue into the warmth of her mouth. 

“Aren’t you eager,” Mercedes murmurs, pulling back and tipping Byleth’s chin up gently. She kisses her again, her lips brushing against Byleth’s cheek, the line of her jaw, and then her lips, a soft and subtle brush of their mouths. Byleth’s heart thrums in her chest.

It’s a feeling she’s never quite gotten used to. Before, when her heart would race, she would sometimes come to Mercedes to ask for healing. Surely, now, she was dying, no? How can a heart beat so quickly, so loudly.

Mercedes nestles her face against Byleth’s chest and closes her eyes, listening. 

With her head against Byleth’s chest, the pressure makes the drum of her heart feel harder, louder. Byleth closes her eyes and sighs, reaching a hand up to brush through Mercedes’ soft, blonde hair. She rubs her scalp gently, coaxing Mercedes back upwards.

Mercedes obeys, a smile gracing her lips as she tips her head up to kiss Byleth again. Byleth can feel the curve of her smile as their lips press together.

Byleth, eyes still closed, slips her hand down lower, lower, gently brushing down the ridge of Mercedes’ spine, the softness of her back, the curve of her hips, and she tightens her grip, tugging Mercedes close, desperate.

Her kiss becomes more furious, her lips moving to coax Mercedes’ tongue into her mouth, 

Mercedes lets out a soft gasp as Byleth grips her harder, kisses her harder, breaking only to breathe and to press their foreheads together, close and intimate. 

“Byleth…” Mercedes whispers, tipping forward to brush Byleth’s bangs aside and kiss her forehead. “Byleth…”

Byleth exhales and reaches out to touch Mercedes with her other hand, lightly dancing her fingers along the curve of Mercedes’ collarbone. She drops her hand lower, brushing across Mercedes’ body until both hands are matched, holding tightly to Mercedes’ hips, pulling her tight as their bodies grind together.

They kiss again, Byleth’s chest heaving and her heart thrumming. With their bodies pressed so close, she swears she can hear Mercedes’ heartbeat too, muted and deep within her chest. 

Byleth draws her hands up from Mercedes’s hips, lightly touching her sides, then the curve of her breasts under fabric. 

Mercedes gasps lightly and giggles, surprised at the pressure.

“Sorry,” Byleth says quietly. 

Mercedes shakes her head and presses closer, letting Byleth’s hands wander across her breasts, stroking the soft fabric of her dress. 

“Byleth,” Mercedes whispers breathily, her voice low. 

Byleth’s fingers get to work, brushing along the folds and ribbons of Mercedes’ dress, looping through ribbons and straps, pushing her capelet back into a pile of brown fabric on the bed. Byleth lightly pushes Mercedes, massaging her chest through the thin fabric of her shirt, pleased at the sound her motions elicit. 

“Byleth,” Mercedes says again, needful and whimpering. 

Byleth grasps the top ribbon of Mercedes’ dress and tugs it loose, bringing with it the layers of elegant, folded fabric and baring Mercedes’ torso to the warm bedroom air.

Her skin is hot and flushed as Byleth’s fingers dance along the soft flesh, tracing the lacey, elegant edges of Mercedes’ corset, gently kneading where her breasts spill out. Byleth slips one hand down one of the corset’s cups, her fingers cold against the heat of Mercedes’ skin.

Mercedes gasps, reclining back in the bed as Byleth repositions to straddle her as she presses her fingertips into Mercedes’ breast. Mercedes moans softly, deeper than before as the pad of Byleth’s thumb caresses her nipple, soft flesh turning to stiff peaks. Mercedes closes her eyes and sighs, lifting up her hands to untie the back of her corset, letting the fabric and lace fall apart on the bed, leaving her chest and soft stomach bare. 

Byleth’s eyes widen, her gaze hooked on Mercedes’ bare skin, glowing in the soft darkness. 

Mercedes smiles and reclines on the bed, stretching, almost displaying herself for Byleth, making her blush and stare in wide-eyed nervousness. 

One day, Byleth would get used to it, maybe. 

Mercedes holds a hand up to stifle a giggle before beckoning Byleth closer, urging her into Mercedes’ soft, warm embrace. Byleth tucks her head into the crook of Mercedes’ neck and kneads her breasts, her caution replaced with a religious fervor, ministrations at the body of an angel incarnate. Byleth gently squeezes her chest and muffles her groans with her lips, pressing their faces together. Her tongue slips into Mercedes’ mouth, urgent and wanting. 

Mercedes gasps, groaning as Byleth tugs on her breasts, her grip firm and her fingertips playful. 

Byleth grins, a smug and nefarious expression before tucking her head down and trailing kisses down Mercedes’ neck, down her collarbone, her sternum, and then she’s between her breasts, hot and wet kisses followed by nipping teeth and the blooming red marks of bites. Byleth lays into Mercedes’ embrace and cups one of her breasts, kissing along the soft curve before wrapping her lips around her nipple. 

Mercedes groans, squirming, and her motion only prompts Byleth to suck her harder, brushing her tongue across her until the nipple turns stiff and hard in her mouth. Byleth’s teeth nip at her, making Mercedes yelp and gasp with pleasure while one hand drifts lazily down between her own legs, her fingers, pushing for pressure against the increasingly wet folds of her underwear. 

Byleth cups her hand around Mercedes’ other breast and shifts focus, satisfied with the teeth marks and spit-slick trail left behind before nipping at her other nipple with her teeth.

“Byleth,” Mercedes begs, the words gasped out. One of her hands continues to rub between her legs, and the other comes up to tangle in Byleth’s hair, to brace her head against Mercedes’ breast, to grind Mercedes’ body against hers in desperate undulation. 

Mercedes cries out and grasps Byleth’s hand, pushing it down her body and up the tangled folds of her skirt. 

Byleth complies, still mouthing Mercedes’ nipple as she slips her fingers into the waistband of Mercedes’ leggings and tugs, baring her soaked underwear. Byleth fumbles blindly between Mercedes’ legs before settling her middle finger on the patch of wetness at the base of her underwear. She strokes her through the thin, wet fabric, drawing more groans and squirms from Mercedes. 

Mercedes cries out, her groans reaching a crescendo before dissolving into whimpers as Byleth gently pulls back from her nipples, her chest left slick with saliva and dotted with half-circle teeth marks. 

She grins at Byleth, her breasts heaving, her mouth half-open as she sucks in sharp breaths. 

“Even now?” Byleth teases, pulling her wet fingers away from Mercedes’s legs. 

“Mm, not quite,” Mercedes teases, pushing Byleth off her lightly and rolling over onto her knees. She stretches out, cracking her stiff muscles and joints and making no attempt to hide her ass as she does. 

Mercedes giggles and gently pushes herself back, grinding herself against Byleth, her slick underwear against Byleth’s eveningwear robe. 

Byleth gasps and closes her eyes.

“Excited?” Mercedes teases, pressing her head down into the pillows and reaching a hand back to fumble with the belt of Byleth’s robe and tugging it free. 

The silk fabric parts around the stiffness of her erect cock, the feeling of it brushing against her making Byleth’s knees shake and weaken. 

Mercedes giggles and beckons Byleth forwards until her cock brushes the silk of Mercedes’ panties. She reaches down to tug her underwear around her knees, exposing her slick wet folds and soft, round ass to Byleth.

Byleth groans as she grips Mercedes’ hips and pushes inside, though push is generous - she slides inside with no resistance, into Mercedes’ slick folds, into her hot and wet and waiting core.

Mercedes groans, muffling herself by pressing her face into her pillow as Byleth bucks against her with a wet slap of flesh against flesh. 

Byleth leans over her, reaching out to grasp her shoulders and tug her back, pulling their bodies together in rhythm as she slides in and out of her. 

Mercedes groans, her breathy voice fragile, cracking, whimpering as shocks and heat spark through her, waves of pleasure crashing over her. “By...leth,” she gasps out through stutters.

“Mercie,” Byleth breathes out, reaching around Mercedes’ torso to grasp her breasts and pull her upwards into a kneeling position, close enough for Byleth to kiss her neck, fondle her breasts, still thrusting into the hot slick between her legs. Byleth’s hips buck as she comes, spilling out hot and wet into Mercedes, a sticky mess between their legs.

Mercedes cries out again, crumpling under the pressure of pleasure and Byleth’s body, and the two of them collapse into a heap on the bed, sweaty and hot and gasping for breath.

“Goddess,” Mercedes breathes out, her chest heaving. 

Byleth huddles close to her, heedless of the mess they’ve made of the bed, of their clothes, of their bodies. She nestles against Mercedes and kisses her neck before resting her head on Mercedes’ still-heaving breasts. She presses a chaste kiss to Mercedes’ sweaty skin and smiles. 

“I love you,” Mercedes says, threading her fingers through Byleth’s long and disheveled hair. “I love you so much.”

“Mm,” Byleth hums, closing her eyes. “I love you too.” 

She listens to Mercedes’ heartbeat. Their hearts beating together, racing with the heat of love and passion and exertion, slowing only as they lay together, bodies close, in the cool dark of the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Thanks again to @I_eat_lazers for comming me!  
> If you want to say hi, I'm on twitter @cowboy_sneep and on tumblr @lucisevofficial!


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